Hardened: A New Release from Ashe Barker

 

 

hardenedI’m really excited about Hardened. I’ve written quite a few M/f stories, and they mostly tend to start out with the male hero in a position of power or influence. Hardened is different. When we meet Jared and Molly he is a prisoner serving time for armed robbery and she’s a prison officer. The chemistry between them is off the scale sexy though, and even though it spells trouble for them both, but especially for her, they can’t keep their hands off each other. For a while I’ve been thinking about a story that starts out a bit different and this is it.

 

Jared is a bad lad (don’t we all just love one of those?) but he’s bright too, and talented, and can see where he’s gone wrong. He’s made some bad choices when he was younger but he’s determined to forge a different life for himself, though it’s not always that simple. I suspect the same is true for most ex-offenders – it can be hard to completely walk away from your old associates and as Jared discovers, the past has a habit of never being that far behind you.

 

 

HARDENED Blurb:

Despite the fact that he is doing time for armed robbery, Molly MacBride is drawn to Jared North almost from the moment she sets eyes on him. Even behind bars his confidence and dominance are undeniable, and soon enough she is willingly baring her bottom and placing herself across his strong thighs, surrendering to both firm punishment and intense pleasure.

 

When all hell breaks loose during a prison riot, it is Jared who saves Molly’s life, but she is so shaken by the incident that she quits her job and does her best to put him out of her mind. As the years pass, however, Jared never relinquishes his place in her heart—or her fantasies—and when she learns that he has been released on parole Molly cannot resist seeking him out.

 

Through a combination of hard work and natural talent, Jared has forged a career for himself as a world-renowned photographer, yet in spite of his newfound sophistication and wealth he is no less dominant than he was when she first met him. It isn’t long before Molly finds herself submitting to both his stern discipline and his masterful lovemaking, but can she truly risk falling for a man whose criminal past could come back to haunt them both at any moment?

 

Publisher’s Note: Hardened is an erotic romance novel that includes spankings, sexual scenes, elements of BDSM, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

 

Read Chapter One for free!

 

HARDENED EXCERPT:

“Do you want more?” Christ, I hope so, but for her first time this has already been quite an introduction to the not-so-gentle art of kink.

 

“Yes. Please.”

 

Her voice is shaky but clear enough. I’m happy to continue if she is. I intend to push her to her limit or as close as I can get. She’ll leave here sore, a bit confused probably, but still craving more.

 

“I’d like to use my belt. Is that all right?”

 

“Oh, I’m not sure…”

 

“Yes, you are. Remember, I’ll stop whenever you tell me you’ve had enough.”

 

“Okay then, just for a bit…”

 

I don’t bother to correct that. In truth, I’ll be the one deciding how much she needs, unless she calls a full stop to the proceedings, but I think that’s unlikely. I’ve never had a subbie safeword on me yet. I ease her forward slightly so I can reach the buckle of my belt. I slide it from the loops of my jeans and fold it into a double thickness, clasping the buckle within my hand.

 

“Ten strokes with the belt, okay? You can count them if you like.”

 

Her response is a breathy squeak, and she grabs my ankle again. I pull back my arm and take the first swing.

 

Molly lets out a yelp and her entire body jerks. I watch as the darker crimson line of the belt blooms across her right buttock, pausing to allow her to process the sensation and to settle again. It takes several seconds, then when she becomes still I drop the next stroke across her left cheek.

 

Molly flinches, but there is no sound this time. Neither is she counting, at least not out loud. I wait for a few moments, then deliver two more strokes in quick succession. This does elicit a sharp cry, and I half expect her to ask me to stop. She’s shuddering, and her grip tightens on my leg, but as the seconds pass there are no words of defeat or surrender from her. I allow her ample time to call a halt if she wants to, then I repeat the two strokes.

 

Molly manages to stifle a squeal, for which I am grateful. I suspect we are both mindful of the men milling about just on the other side of the cell door and neither of us wants to attract attention. Had I had longer in which to plan this scene I would have certainly opted for a more secluded setting, but we are where we are. Next time, perhaps…

 

I apply two more strokes with my belt, gathering in intensity now. Molly is absorbing the pain well, riding it like a natural. She is tense, still rigid across my lap, but if anything, she has lifted her cute bottom up for me to spank. I can only guess at what else might be going on in her head, but I know without a shadow of a doubt that she’s loving what I’m doing to her.

 

“These will be the last two. They’re going to be across the backs of your thighs and they’ll really hurt. If you think you might scream tell me now and I’ll find you a gag.”

 

“No, thank you. I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

 

“Good girl.” I spend a few moments stroking her flaming buttocks, the heat radiating up into my palm. Molly makes a sound deep in her throat, which I swear sounds like a purr to me. I continue the sensual caress, pressing my hand into her punished skin to better drive home the experience, to draw out for her that heady mix of pain and pleasure that will set the endorphins coursing freely through her system. This is why I didn’t want to rush.

 

“Are you ready?” I murmur.

 

“Yes,” she replies, pressing her bottom into my hand.

 

I draw my palm lower, down over the curve to stroke the backs of her legs, the crease where her bottom meets her thighs. This is the sweet spot I am about to thrash. I rub her there as I lean to my right, just enough to get a decent view of her pussy lips peeking out from between her legs. She is swollen, glistening, the moisture betraying her arousal. I trail my thumb along the length of her slit, ready to withdraw at the slightest protest from her. She submitted to a spanking, no more, and I won’t push her.

 

Molly gasps, but doesn’t pull away from me. Encouraged but still cautious I angle my hand so I can push my thumb between her folds to reach her clit. She parts her legs and lifts her bottom up. I require no further urging. Her clit is plump, swollen with her arousal. I take it between my finger and thumb and squeeze, gentle at first then firming up the pressure.

 

Molly is squirming on my lap, wriggling and writhing as she seeks to direct the touch to her sensitive tip. I know just what she needs, and have no intention of allowing her to set the pace now. I trail my fingertips around her clit, then flick the end. I swipe it from side to side, then from the bottom to the top. She is panting, thrusting her hips back, wordlessly begging me for her release.

She is there, right at the top, hovering at the edge of the precipice. I tease her for several moments, bringing her almost to the point of no return, then allowing her to slide back down. Her breath has been transformed into soft, sobbing gulps and her thighs are spread wide. When I am convinced she can take no more, I lift my hand from her.

 

“Close your legs, Molly.” I issue the command and wait for her to comply. She’s reluctant, but gloriously obedient even so. I transfer my belt back into my right hand ready for the final two strokes.

 

I thrash her across both thighs.

 

“Aagh!” Despite her good intentions Molly lets out a scream. I expected this, but even so, she did promise me that she would be quiet.

 

“Molly, I can still gag you.”

 

“I’m sorry, Jared, truly. I won’t make a sound next time.” She sounds so contrite I can’t help but smile.

 

“Good. Make sure you don’t or I’ll add on more strokes to help you learn that I mean what I say.” I keep my tone cool and clipped and the words stern because that’s what she needs. Molly MacBride is a natural submissive and she craves my authority and rigid control right now.

 

I drop the final stroke across her thighs, just below the first. She spasms hard, her entire body convulsing as she fights to absorb the pain. She shudders, her muscles softening as she lets it seep through her and away.

 

Even before she has finished processing the sensation I slide my hand back between her legs and rub her engorged clit. Her orgasm is instant, racking her body as I squeeze and tug on her sensitive nub. Her shudders, violent at first, subside but she is still trembling as I lift her from my lap and cradle her in my arms. She reaches up and locks her arms around my neck, her face buried in the dark grey fabric of my prison-issue T shirt.

 

I pull her in close and hold her. She is sobbing, her tears dampening my clothes. I rub my palm between her shoulder blades and kiss her short, sleek hair. It smells of apples, and something else. Cinnamon perhaps?

 

“You’re okay, I have you.”

 

 

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About Ashe Barker:

USA Today Bestselling author Ashe Barker writes erotic romance and spanking romance in a variety of genres

including contemporary, BDSM, paranormal, historical. ménage, gay romance and time travel. She is a #1 Amazon Bestseller and all her stories feature hot alpha males and sassy submissives, often with a lot to learn. Kink abounds, and there’s enough dirty talk to satisfy the most demanding smut lover. However dark and dirty the setting, love always emerges triumphant, and her stories never fail to deliver a satisfying happy ever after.

 

Find Ashe Here:

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Review Quotes

Wow! I was really surprised by this book… the story is about Jared and his choices and the consequences of those choices. The writing is very good and the story absolutely kept me turning pages until I finished the book. This book really earned its’ 5 stars.

 

This was a good page turner as I was keen to see where their journey took them.

Out Now! Grand Slam – BDSM Sports Romance by Lily Harlem & Lucy Felthouse (@lily_harlem @cw1985)

grandslam 

Everyone’s favourite dominant tennis player, Travis Connolly, is back! Grand Slam, a M/F BDSM sports erotic romance by award-winning authors Lily Harlem and Lucy Felthouse has been re-launched with a brand new cover, but is the same gripping book—so if you’ve read it before, be aware the content hasn’t changed.

*****

Blurb:

California had seduced me with promises of a new life working at Los Carlos Tennis Academy. What I didn’t expect was the dark, brooding number one seed, Travis Connolly, resisting my help. He wasn’t interested in my psychology skills. Instead his attention was drawn to the edgy, sharper corners of my desires, proving that they existed, setting me challenges and driving me crazy to the point of combustion.

I’m the best tennis player in the world—officially—so why would I need a damn woman full of psychobabble to get me on form? Despite my irritation, however, I can’t resist pushing Marie Sherratt’s buttons even though doing that shows her the darkest shades of my lust, the parts of me I buried deep. So I set her a challenge, one she rises to, one that has me rising too, and before long my game relies on her calling the shots, hitting the target and bending to my will. One thing was certain, being not just master of the court, but also of Marie is seriously good for my soul.

Buy links:

Amazon: http://mybook.to/grandslam

All Romance eBooks: http://bit.ly/29hlQwU

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/29hEN1n

iBooks UK: http://apple.co/29hF4Bs

iBooks US: http://apple.co/2997niA

Kobo: http://bit.ly/298kRyG

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/29bspyg

 

Add to Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18212109-grand-slam

More sports romances from Lily Harlem & Lucy Felthouse: http://www.rawtalentseries.co.uk

*****

Excerpt:

I turned to the door. I always kept it ajar when expecting a client, to give the impression that I was open to whatever they needed to talk about. It was a subliminal thing.

Travis stood in the frame, his wide shoulders filling the space, the top of his head almost brushing the wood and his jawline holding a heavy sprinkle of black stubble.

Fuck, he should come with a warning. Hazard to the health of every female heart. He looked good enough to eat, or lick all over at the very least. Tasty.

“Knock, knock,” he said, slipping his gaze down my body.

“Come in. Take a seat.” I gestured to the couch and made a point of not letting my attention slide over his body. I didn’t need to look at soft blue jeans worn in all the right places or at his black polo top with a Nike logo just over his right nipple to imagine what was beneath them. I took a deep breath to stop myself doing just that. His physical attributes weren’t my concern, it was his mind I was after.

He shut the door and sat sideways on the low S curve of the black leather recliner, his long legs folding over and his knees coming up high.

“Please,” I said. “Lie back, make yourself comfortable.” I took a seat on a soft chair just to his left and crossed my legs.

Damn, I hadn’t realized how short this tight little red skirt was. Quickly I uncrossed, then started to worry there was a gap between my knees that would flash the top of my stockings or worse, what was between them. Hurriedly I pressed my notebook over my lap, resisted a squirm and forced a gentle smile at Travis.

“You wear glasses,” he said.

“Contacts usually.” I touched the black frames and pressed them up the bridge of my nose a fraction.

“You were in a hurry this morning then?” He frowned, as though irritated by me being in a hurry.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You were in a rush to get to work?”

“Not especially, it’s just the heat and being tired, it’s made my eyes a little sensitive. I thought it best to opt for my glasses when I left home this morning.”

“So you slept at home last night?”

“Pardon?” I creased my brow in confusion.

His fists were clenched and a muscle twitched in his jawline. “You slept at home then and not at…?”

I struggled to keep the surprise out of my expression. Bloody hell, was he getting at what I thought he was? Did he want to know if I’d slept at Peter’s?

His dark eyes were boring into me; they were deep chocolate-brown, almost black. Annoyance swirled in their depths, so did a curious certainty that I’d answer his question. He was definitely a man who was used to getting what he wanted.

Well, I supposed he would again now, because if he didn’t chill out we’d get nowhere and I had things to start work on. Plus I hadn’t slept with Peter. I wasn’t a to-bed-on-the-first-date kind of woman, so what was the harm in being truthful? “Yes, I slept at home last night.” I opened my notepad, clicked the spring on my ball-point pen and tilted my chin. “Alone.” I caught his steady gaze. Yes, I’d told him something he had no right to wonder about. But by telling Travis what he appeared to want to know, he owed me something in the confessing stakes.

He nodded slowly, then lifted his legs and did as I’d asked, lay back on the chair and settled his gaze over the L.A. skyline.

“And what about you?” I asked, watching as he unfurled his fists and rested his hands over his flat belly. “Did you sleep alone?”

He frowned. “You know I did.”

“No I don’t.”

“I was eating alone, Marie. You saw me.”

“Yes. I did. But you could have been heading out to meet someone or catching up with other players. I’m not a mind-reader.”

I waited for him to elaborate on our chance encounter or offer some information on the rest of his evening. He didn’t.

“In these sessions, Travis, it’s important for me to know who else is in your life, who you hang out with, who you share your thoughts and feelings with.”

“You have everything you need to know in my file.”

“Your file is full of facts. I’m more interested in the non-tangible things.”

“Like what?”

“Things like who your special someone is.”

He sucked in a breath, rolled his lips in on themselves and stared out the window.

“Have you left someone you care about back in England?” I asked gently.

“I think this is all very much beyond the realms of what we’re supposed to be doing here.” He’d fisted his fingers again and shifted his right foot irritably, as though kicking something away. I wondered if he was imagining it was my head.

“It’s up to us to decide what we want to do with our time together, Travis. We can talk about your accident or cognitive methods for keeping calm and focused under pressure, or you can unload all the stuff that fills your mind and stops you from being able to concentrate on court. Entirely up to you.”

“Great, in that case we won’t discuss my love life. It really is the last thing that plays on my mind when I’m beating an opponent into submission.”

Okay, now was the time to play my trump card. “Yet you feel it necessary to ask me about my love life.”

“You didn’t have to answer.”

“No, I didn’t, but you wanted to know, and since we’re stuck with each other for three hours a week for the foreseeable future I figured it would make sense for us to know a little about each other’s lives.”

“So now we do. I know you’re dating my coach and he wants to get into your knickers, and you know I sleep alone and have done for a long time now.” He paused. “Too long.”

Great, now we were getting somewhere. “And would you like that to change?”

“What?”

“Sleeping alone.”

He sighed and shoved his hand through his hair. I watched the black strands feather through his fingers and an image of myself doing that to him as he kissed down my sternum, onto my stomach, lower, suddenly stole into my mind.

I tightened my legs together. Felt a pleasurable little rush of heat in my lower abdomen. No. That was a ridiculous thing to daydream about. Travis Connolly was not only way out of my league, he was also a surly grump. Sitting here talking to him was stretching seconds into minutes.

“Are you asking me if I want to get married?” he asked, his gaze slipping to my chest.

Damn it, my nipples were tingling now.

“No, not at all. Simply wondering if you feel your career allows you to have a romantic relationship or if it’s something you’ve sacrificed in the name of tennis.”

“I’ve sacrificed lots of things to be number one seed.”

*****

About Lily Harlem

Lily Harlem lives in the UK and is an award-winning author of erotic romance. She writes for publishers on both sides of the Atlantic including HarperCollins, Totally Bound, Pride Publishing, Evernight Publishing, All Romance eBooks, Stormy Nights Publishing, Tirgearr and Sweetmeats Press. Her work regularly receives high praise and industry nominations.

Before turning her hand to writing Lily Harlem worked as a trauma nurse and her latest HarperCollins release, Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse draws on her many experiences while nursing in London. Lily also self-publishes and The Silk Tie, The Glass Knot and Scored have been blessed with many 5* reviews since their release.

Lily writes MF, MM and ménage a trois, her books regularly hit the #1 spot on Amazon Best Seller lists and Breathe You In was named a USA Today Reviewer’s Recommended Read of 2014. Her latest MM novel is Dark Warrior.

Lily also co-authors with Natalie Dae and publishes under the name Harlem Dae – check out the Sexy as Hell Trilogy – The Novice, The Player, and The Vixen – and That Filthy Book which has been hailed as a novel ‘every woman should read’ and is available in book stores nationwide.

One thing you can be sure of, whatever book you pick up by Ms Harlem, is it will be wildly romantic and down-and-dirty sexy. Enjoy!

Check out Lily’s website for details of her other books. Subscribe to her newsletter to get a FREE ebook and be the first to hear of new releases and free reads, and if you enjoy Facebook, hop on over there and say hi!

 

About Lucy Felthouse

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller) and Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller). Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 140 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter and Facebook. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

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Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

The Psychology of Dreams 101 Episode 16

Psychology of Dreams cover12985576_1537272663241009_8777292825525497968_nWelcome to the next instalment of The Psychology of Dreams 101, in which there are rewards for punishments and a return to the dream. I thought this would be the last episode, but as it turns out there is one more, so hang on for the ride.

 

What if you got punished when you didn’t get your dreams right? That’s the dilemma our heroin, Leah, and her psychology of dreams teacher, Al. The Psychology of Dreams 101 is a romp into the sexy unconscious as Leah Kent takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required Dream Journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys.

 

If you missed episode 15, find it here.

Chapter 16 Taking a Risk

In a spastic tango, Al walked her back against the wall, kissing her as he went – really kissing her as he went, and all the while he nudged and pressed and undulated up close and personal, coaxing and enticing her one step at a time until the wall pressed up tight against her shoulders. He tugged and worried her sweats down over her hips. With a little shake and wriggle of her bottom, they dropped to pool around her feet and she stepped free and gave them a hard kick. With one hand, he dug in his pocket for a condom while with the other he struggled with his fly. Clearly this sort of multi-tasking wasn’t his forte. She uttered an impatient curse, slapped his hands away and made quick work of the snap and zipper, grabbing a double handful of his clenching ass-cheeks as she shoved jeans and boxers down. His cock gave her a stiff salute, and she closed her hand around the shaft and began to squeeze and stroke.

“O God! Oh Christ,” he hissed between gritted teeth, closing his fist around her wrist. “Don’t to that. Jesus, Leah, don’t do that – not yet. I won’t last two minutes if you don’t stop.” He nearly dropped the condom before he managed to roll it on with in between some seriously colorful language, then Leah grabbed him again, reaching between her legs to open herself. She was already slick and swollen. Hell, hadn’t she been horny for him from the beginning? And as much as she wanted to linger, she also wanted to hurry, just in case they got interrupted, just in case this time was no different than the others, just in case this time was no more real.

She gave a little yelp of surprise as he cupped her bare bottom in his hands and lifted her onto him. “I wanted our first time to be long and lingering, Leah.” His voice was breathless and, as he thrust home, he spoke almost as though he’d read her thoughts. “I wanted to make it last. Not gonna happen. We’ve both waited too long for that.” He bit her ear, and she bucked against him, sheathing him still deeper. “We’ll have to save the lingering for the second time.”

“I’m okay with that.” Her words came out in hard little grunts, and then she went back to eating his mouth. She didn’t need it to last. Right now she just needed it to happen, right now she all she wanted was to come with Al inside her. She needed that in the worst sort of way. She’d needed that for what seemed like an eternity. She wrapped her legs around his waist and began to thrust, and he thrust back, groaning as though the very act might have caused him as much pain as it did pleasure. He gave up trying to unbutton her shirt, and she raised her arms so he could drag it off over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her nipples were heavy and aching for his attention, which he gave happily – first with his thumbs, and then with his mouth. He’d barely managed a good hard lick and suck of each in turn, before his whole body tensed and he held his breath, shivering and convulsing as he came, and the tremors of him inside her sent her into her own release with a little cry of surprise, as though she hadn’t actually believed that this time it would really happen.

Their coming was not a graceful act. She bumped her head on the wall. He nearly tripped over his jeans, fallen around his knees, a move that would have taken them both over backward onto the floor if he hadn’t caught his balance at the last minute and, with her still wrapped around him, carried her to the bedroom where he deposited her in the middle of the bed in spite of said jeans around said knees, which turned his efforts into a mincing-stepped shuffle. The man was coordinated. She’d give him that.

“Not on the bed,” she managed weakly. “Don’t put me on the bed. I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to dream.”

“No sleeping happening here,” he said, as he slid out of the rest of his clothing then deposited the used condom in the trash while she grumbled at his sudden, if very brief, absence. That done, he all but fell onto the mattress and wriggled in between her spread legs face first. As he slid his tongue wide and flat all the way from her perineum, in between her swollen labia and right on up to her clit, she wondered, for the briefest of moments, just where the man got his oral skills. From what he’d told her, she’d guess it wasn’t Diana and, if it had been Dr. Clyde, well, that possibility somehow made her all the wetter. That was the last coherent thought she managed about much of anything as he began to circle and suck, circle and nip, cupping her ass cheeks in his hands, pulling her closer to him, as though he wanted to climb up inside her face first – a thought that made her tremble all over.

They came again – several times. In fact she wasn’t sure how many times because her last memory before she lost consciousness was of him fucking her from a spoon position slow and lazy-like — though it was probably less laziness and more exhaustion, but her brain had been too muddled from so much fabulous sex to realize their mistake until she found herself on the roof of the high rise from which Dianna had jumped, from which she had pushed Al and Dr. Clyde. Al sat next to her, and they were both naked.

“I should have known. I should have forced the issue when you took me into the bed,” she said looking out over the lights of the city far below. “And now here we are again, back in the dream.”

“It wouldn’t have made any difference if we’d been in the bed or on the floor or out at the campground. You’re exhausted. No matter how hard you tried to stay awake, sooner or later you were bound to sleep, and when you sleep, you dream.”

“Why did you bring me here?” she asked, figuring she would be terrified of the way they both sat unclothed with their feet dangling off the edge of the roof into nothingness if she hadn’t known that it was a dream.

“I didn’t bring you here,” he replied, “but it’s not too much of a surprise that this is where we ended up, is it? Under the circumstances.”

“Not really, I guess. “Is Doctor Clyde here,” she asked with a quick glance around.

“Nope. Just us this time. No interruptions.”

“No interruptions,” she repeated. “I still don’t understand what’s going on. I told you I wouldn’t dream with you.”

I didn’t plan it if that’s what you think. I wouldn’t lie to you.” He scratched his stubbled chin and shifted just right for her to get a view of his cock at half-mast. “The thing about dreams, Leah, is that we can’t really control them. Derrick and I couldn’t and neither can you and I.”

“But maybe you didn’t tell me the whole truth. Is that possible?”

He shifted and ground his ass against the concrete, laying a protective hand against his growing erection. “I suppose it is. Maybe my unconscious took things out of my hands. You know how the unconscious is.”

“And what are we going to do if we can’t get back?” She surprised herself at how matter of fact she asked the question.

“You can leave whenever you want. All you have to do is wake up. That’s all you ever had to do. You stayed because there was something you wanted from the dream, something your unconscious needed. You know you didn’t sleep, or even dream, any longer than you normally would on any given night. It was just a nightmare, that’s all, a nightmare that seemed unusually real.”

f7c97536836dc44ea7a1faaa02ab1a6a“But what if I can’t? What if I’m stuck? Then what, Al? I know you say it was just a part of the nightmare, but humor me.”

He dropped a gentle kiss on her lips and held her gaze. “You won’t be stuck, Leah. I’m here now. For the first time you’ve finally let me in, and I’ll help you find your way back.”

“Finally let you in? Al, what the hell are you talking about?” Her chest tightened and she felt a chill rise up her spine. “We’ve dreamed together before, that’s why I didn’t want to come back here.” The wind had picked up and the benighted city below seemed even darker than usual. She tried to remember if she’d ever seen the city in daylight.

He rested his hands gently on her shoulders and held her gaze. “Leah, we’ve never dreamed together before. You’ve only just now let me in, and I’m encouraged. I’m hopeful that now you’ll let me take you back, back to the waking world.”

Annik Petrou Talks about Falling in Love with Public Speaking

Annik & Little PonyI’m very excited to have Annik Petrou on a Hopeful Romantic today. Annik is the founder of the wonderful Pony Express, which trains people to fall in love with public speaking, and when you hear what Annik has to say, I’m sure you’ll be convinced that she definitely is smitten. Welcome, Annik!

 

K D: Tell us a little bit about PONY Express and how it got started.

 

Annik: As so often, I constantly felt that others got ahead much faster than me. People who had ideas (that clearly weren’t as good as mine, right?) got promoted faster, were perceived as more intelligent simply because they knew how to communicate and sell themselves. I then started working with different public speaking training techniques, but it only was after I got into Improvisation & Clowning that I understood that real authenticity comes from within and not from external techniques. We integrated A LOT of this experiential and interactive work in the Pony Express training and the results have proven that our training is able to take people from beginner to professional in a couple of months.

 

K D: How did you get interested in public speaking?

 

Annik: I attended one of those personal development events where I met my now business partner. He spoke on stage and I thought, ‘WOW, I wanna be as good as him.’ And obviously, all those insecurities I have about myself helped push the whole process along. I felt so out of control when speaking as the nerves took over making me look like a ‘twat’ on stage [in my perception] and I simply wanted to be more in control of the whole process and not a victim to my fears.

 

K D: If you could give only one suggestion to help people get over their nerves for speaking in public, what would it be?Annik, Errol & Little Pony

 

Annik: Start speaking before you think you are ready. The nerves calm with practice and time. People often wait for too many years or read books or watch videos instead of getting uncomfortable and throwing themselves into the cold water and on stage. Every mistake is a lesson you would have NEVER learned without getting it wrong first. So don’t be afraid to speak-up and potentially ‘get it wrong’ – be afraid of not giving it a GO. Practice makes perfect.

 

K D: What are the biggest mistakes you see people making when they get up to speak?

 

Annik: They don’t have a grounding routine before stepping on stage. Grounding techniques like power posing, breathing techniques or detachment processes help to get you out of your head back into your body, which has a massive positive impact on your presence. Another mistake is that people start with totally pointless comments like ‘Thank you for having me…’ instead of really sparking the audience up from the first 15 seconds.

 

K D: I know from my own public speaking experiences that the speaker has to connect with her audience. Any advice to speakers on how to do that?

 

Annik: Apart from the obvious like being present, looking into their eyes and not the ceiling or back wall and NOT overloading them with too many details — waffle on and on and on because you don’t have a real structure – I’d say doing a ‘YOU’ count is a great connection tool. I often hear people say, ‘I have done this, I have done that …’ I I I I! Me
me me me! Make it about them. Draw them in, for example, instead of saying, ‘I have five years of experience working in the social media industry.’ Say, ‘In five years of working in the social media industry here are three tips for you.’ You connect by making it about them.

 

K D: What is your best experience of public speaking?

 

Annik: I love the difference in people’s eyes when I take them through different processes or do a session on Annik Contribution Conference 1improvisation. It gets them out of their heads, and I feel so much more alive too and powerful. No one can deny the positive effect of realising the impact you have on others.

 

KD: Does learning to comfortably speak in front of an audience change people’s lives in other ways as well?

 

Annik: You bet! One thing I hear a lot from people doing our six-month Speaking Accelerator is, ‘I wish I would have done this training earlier.’ It’s not only the speaking bit but the certainty and power it gives you. You negotiate harder, sell more, feel more in control of your life. People gained the confidence to start their own business, got better paid speaking gigs or corporate contracts and also got the desired investment when pitching at Dragon’s Den, for example.

 

K D: How can people get in touch with PONY Express if they would like to become more comfortable speaking in public?

 

Annik: Simply email annik@ponyexpressclub.com or call me on 07734312891. We run a monthly Club Night every second last Wednesday of the month. There’s more information at www.ponyepressclub.com or our Facebook group www.facebook.com/groups/ponyexpressclub. I want to hear from you and can’t wait hearing your story.

 

K D: How has coaching public speaking changed your life?

 

Annik: I am honestly a different person. I always used to be loud to mask all my insecurities, so there was no real Annik TEDx_unicornssubstance to me. Now, I am ME – ON and OFF stage. It’s such a relief.

 

K D: Anything else you’d like to share, Annik?

Annik: It’s all about taking risks. Playing small means you’re comfortable, but not memorable. If you never give it a go – you’ll never know! And nerves are part of playing a bigger game. So get nervous and start speaking.

 

 

Out Now – Shopping for a CEO’s Fiancée by Julia Kent (@jkentauthor)

SFACEO-high-res-ebook-683x1024Book Blurb:

We skipped right over the whole fiancée thing and went straight from girlfriend to wife.

At least, I think that’s what happened. I woke up after my brother’s Vegas wedding reception with my luscious girlfriend in bed with me. We’re both wearing wedding rings.

So is her coworker, Josh.

And our Vegas chauffeur, Geordi.

Who the hell am I married to?

Unraveling this mystery will be as difficult as figuring out why Amanda and I are having panic attacks over the thought of being husband and wife.

Or, whoever we’re actually married to.

Oh, ^%$#.

It’s true that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, with one exception:

If she’s my wife, we’ll make it work.

If she’s not?

I’ll make it happen.

Get the 9th book in Julia Kent’s New York Times bestselling romantic comedy series as Andrew and Amanda sort out their wild Vegas night…and the rest of their lives.

Buy Links:

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1sBw3IN
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1sgnuDE
Amazon Canada: http://amzn.to/25nt9pC
Amazon Australia: http://bit.ly/1TKfjbz
iBooks: http://apple.co/1X94p1O
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1VKr5pI
BN: http://bit.ly/1rvtVlC
GP: http://bit.ly/1TA3zp4

*****

EXCERPT:

As she makes a small sound of pleasure in the back of her throat, my thumb migrates, the pad resting lightly on the pulse at her collarbone, seeking to feel the sound. Our hips press into each other, my erection painful in these cramped, tight shorts, and all I want to do is free myself, then be caged within her warm, wet madness.

Losing myself in her is the best form of escape.

Her hands slide up and down, one north to the nape of my neck, one south to the curve of my ass, which tightens at the initiation of her touch. Her hand is insistent, demanding, righteous and full of assumptions.

She acts like she has the right to touch me like this.

I like that.

I break the kiss and bend, thighs screaming, hamstrings ready to defect, put one arm under her knees and the other around her back, palm cupping her breast, and she’s in my arms, then on my desk.

And I’m on my knees.

Ignoring the shaking muscles in my legs, which tremble from strain and, perhaps, desire, I part her legs, finding black silk, lace, and nothing but barrier. It’s beautiful, but this will not do.

“Not here!” she gasps, but her voice isn’t firm, the protest half-hearted, as if she needs to check a box on a list of How To Be Professional qualities she should have in the workplace. She’s turned on and ready, the illicit desk sex and my mouth too much to let her mount another argument, her head lolling back as I dive in, pushing aside the piece of cotton and finding my way to give.

Sunlight glints off the wedding ring on my hand as I reach back, my hand resting on her knee.

It’s the last thing I see until she chokes back a cry from her orgasm, her fingers pulling tightly on my hair, and begs me, “Please. In me. Now.” Normally talkative, Amanda loses access to part of the speech center of her brain as we spiral deeper into lust and passion. It’s a tell.

I love this tell.

*****

About the Author:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge, and new adult books that push contemporary boundaries. From billionaires to BBWs to rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every book she writes, but unlike Trevor from Random Acts of Crazy, she has never kissed a chicken. She loves to hear from her readers by email at julia@jkentauthor.com

Social Media Links

Website:  http://www.jkentauthor.com/

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/jkentauthor

Facebook reader group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1581883428728637/

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/jkentauthor

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/jkentauthor

Newsletter & Text Signup:  http://www.prosaicpress.com/jkentauthor/contact-us/newsletter-and-text-signup/

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